


Rest

by Reference_Queen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27447517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reference_Queen/pseuds/Reference_Queen
Summary: “Welcome to Rest,” Jessica says simply. “This is where the journey ends, Sam and Dean.”The brothers exchange glances.“Your path ends here. Your role is finished. There is nothing else for you. You may lay your weary heads, and rest.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 3





	Rest

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not only do I not own Supernatural, I didn't even write this. My mom wrote this small happy ending after watching That Scene in 15x18, and she's only on season eight. I included her notes on what she knows about the plot so it's not confusing.

or, How I Imagine The End Of Supernatural After Watching The Penultimate Scene 

(Caveat: I am only through the middle of season 8 so far.)

“Carry on, my wayward son  
There will be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don’t you cry no more.”  
~ Kansas, (lyrics)

“And he shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain”  
~ Revelations, Bible

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”  
~ Bible

* * *

(Scene: Battle chaos as Sam and Dean fight their last fight together to end God and save the world yet again.)

Sam is wielding the demon knife like a wild thing, all deadly concentration and perfect precision. In times like these he seems to remember how Soulless Sam was a force to be reckoned with, and a little bit of that focus seeps into him now. He doesn’t mind--it helps him fight better.

And he needs to fight better than ever before, because Dean is only barely hanging on. It’s obvious his mind is somewhere else, and while Sam knows that all Dean can think about is Cas, he needs his brother to be fully in this fight or they are both gonna get iced. 

Sam buries the demon knife in the gut of a black eyed bastard, then glances over at his brother.

“DEAN!” Sam bellows, warning his brother about the vampire leaping out of the darkness. 

Dean turns and flings his blade out wildly, somehow managing to decapitate the vamp with plain old dumb luck. Dean stares down at the headless body, a vaguely surprised expression on his bloody face.

Cursing under his breath, Sam grabs Dean’s arm and drags him toward a shallow alcove in the granite mountain, where at least they have some cover. 

Throwing themselves down against the wall, the brothers try to catch their breath.

“How--how is it you are still a better fighter than I am, without even trying?” Sam gasps out. He shakes his head and looks over at Dean for the typical smart ass remark. 

Instead Dean stares at the blade he’s holding--the one he had when he fought across the whole of Purgatory to save Castiel.

“Listen to me, Dean,” Sam says in a low voice, leaning in toward his brother. “You have got to get a grip on yourself or a lot of people are going to die tonight.”

Dean doesn’t respond. 

Sam tries again. “I’M going to die tonight if you don’t get out there and help me end God, Dean!”

The mention of Sam being in danger stirs Dean to action. He shakes his head as if clearing it of cobweb thoughts, and gets to his feet. He holds out a hand to Sam. 

“Let’s go kill God.”

(Fight, it comes down to a duel with Sam/Dean/ChuckGod, the brothers work together and finish him, I don’t know enough about the conflict to write it.)

The blade sings out as it flies through the air and lodges itself directly in Chuck’s heart. Sam and Dean look at each other, and then back at God. Chuck raises a hand weakly, like he wants to say something to the Winchesters, but his hand falls back down and the light leaves his eyes. 

God is dead. 

The very next instant Sam and Dean find themselves standing in a beautiful, lush green landscape. The air is warm and smells of lilacs. Sam looks down at himself. All the blood and gore is gone, he is clean and in fresh clothes--albeit no shoes. The grass was softer than plush carpet, but he wondered what kind of entity would kidnap them, clean them up, and then steal his shoes. He looks over at Dean, also clean and sans footwear.

“What is this place?” Sam asks suspiciously, turning around and finding the landscape stretches for miles in every direction; he could see houses of some type in the distance.

“I’d say we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto, because this grass is GREEN. Makes me think of Oz,” Dean says gliby, though Sam can tell he is scared. 

Sam suddenly pats down his pockets. “I’m not packing. You got any weapons?” he whispers urgently. 

Dean does a check and comes up empty. “Did we not just kill God?” he demands. “What the hell happened?”

“Sam and Dean Winchester, it’s so damn good to see you again!” says a familiar voice.

Sam whirls around and stares. A woman is standing there, wearing a sleeveless fluttery blue dress and bare feet, her blond hair curling around her face. A face that Sam knows. A face that is dear to him.

“Jess?” he whispers incredulously. She breaks into a huge smile, and Sam knows that smile, he saw it in his dreams a thousand times since that awful night twelve years ago when this journey began. “Jessica!”

And then she laughs and runs towards him and he grabs her in his arms and swings her around, covering her face with kisses.

“What--what are you doing here? Where are we? Are you real?” Sam asks, when he finally releases Jessica’s lips, though he makes sure to keep touching her, as if she would disappear if he let go. 

“I heard you were coming and I insisted on being the one who welcomed you,” Jess says excitedly. “So … welcome!” She throws her arms open and grins again.

Sam cocks an eyebrow. “Welcome to what? What is this place?”

Beside him, Dean tenses.

“Welcome to Rest,” Jessica says simply. “This is where the journey ends, Sam and Dean.”

The brothers exchange glances.

“Your path ends here. Your role is finished. There is nothing else for you. You may lay your weary heads, and rest.” Jessica smiles radiantly at them both.

Sam looks puzzled. Dean looks pissed.

“Wait, wait, wait--now wait just a minute here,” Dean says, eyes narrowing. “This is it? This is the end? Not heaven, or paradise, or … or hell, even Purgatory? Hell, even Hell?”

Sam gives his brother a look. 

“Shut up, Sammy,” Dean says, waving a hand and turning back to Jessica.

“All of those places--Hell, Heaven, Paradise, Purgatory, the Empty--all of those are places, Dean," Jessica says earnestly. "Places that have exits and entrances. Places you can leave and return to, no matter how rare or unusual it might be to do so.”

“For everyone else, maybe,” Dean mutters.

Jessica continued. “Rest is different. It’s not a place. It’s a state of being. Your soul is finally at peace.”

“And everyone ends up here eventually?” Sam asks, taking Jessica’s hand.  
For the first time, Jessica’s huge smile falters. “No, not everyone,” she says softly. “Those who do not wish to find peace will never Rest. Demons, for example. It is safe here.”

Sam squeezes her hand. Jess looks at him tenderly. 

“This existence is for humans who have completed their part in the workings of the universe. Those who have fought valiantly and carried on no matter the cost.”

Dean snorts. “So a weird mix between Nirvana and Valhalla,” he says dryly. “After being reincarnated from the Wheel of Life, we get a warrior’s afterlife?”

Jess purses her lips. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up, I guess.”

“So … does that mean we won?” Dean asks. “Did we defeat Chuck? It’s all over?”

“Your battle was successful, yes. As for the end, it being all over … that is something we cannot know in Rest.”

Sam frowns. “But that means we need to go back and help--”

Jessica lays a finger on his lips. “No, Sam. You cannot go back. This is where you belong now. Your part is finished. There is nothing else for you to do.”

Dean snorts again. “There is ALWAYS something else we can do.”

Jess shakes her head. “Everything has an end, Dean. This is the end for you.” She tilts her head, looking like a beautiful golden bird. “Think of it like Shakespeare’s lines: ‘All the world’s a stage, and each of us merely players in it/We have our exits and our entrances, and one man in his life may play many parts.’ Your part in the great cosmic play is over." Her voice is firm. "There are no more lines left for you to speak, no more stage directions to follow. You have exited Stage Left, and now you enjoy the comforts of backstage, and wait for your fellow actors to join you.” 

Sam and Dean are silent for a long moment, absorbing this. 

“If you’re here,” Sam says slowly, “does that mean Mom is here too?” 

Jess nods happily. Sam grins. Dean inhales sharply.

“What about Dad?” Sam asks.

“John Winchester is not here yet,” Jess informs them. “He still has a role to play, or things to figure out first.”

Dean frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Some take longer than others to make their way to Rest. They haven’t learned their lessons the first time around, or they still want to fight and not be at peace, and some take longer because they have bigger roles to perform,” she says, looking at them knowingly.

“Friggin’ stars of the show, that’s us,” Dean mutters.

“Who else is here?” Sam asks. He glances over at Dean, whose expression closes suddenly. “Bobby? Kevin? Anna?”

Jess nods along to each name, except the last one. “I don’t know an Anna,” she says. 

“Anna was an angel who helped us,” Dean says, his voice toneless. “Lots of angels helped us, in fact.”

Jessica shakes her head. “As far as I know, this is a place for humans only. I haven’t met any angels.”

Dean turns away. Sam watches him anxiously for a moment before turning back to Jess. 

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” Sam says softly. 

“There is so much to show you, Sam!” Jess bubbles with excitement. “So many things to talk about, people to see, lots of dogs, and then--”

Sam is practically fizzing with joy himself, drinking in Jess’ face. He frowns when she glances over at Dean and her voice trails off. Sam follows her gaze.

Dean is just standing there, hunched over a little, trying to look happy for Sam but failing miserably. “Go on, Sam,” he says hoarsely. “I am so damn happy that you and Jess are back together at last. You deserve happiness.”

Sam looks back at Jessica. He reaches out a finger to trace her cheekbone. “Give me a minute with my brother, okay?”

Jessica smiles warmly. “That’s why I fell in love with you, Sam--you care so much about the people in your life.” She lets go of his hand and makes a shooing gesture. “Go on,” she whispers. “We have a long, long time to be together.”

Sam smiles, watching her dance over the emerald grass and sink down into a patch of bright yellow buttercups, the scene so beautiful it hurts. 

He turns back to his brother. “So …”

Dean gives his brother a look. 

Sam chuckles dryly. “Not what you were expecting?” he asks, gesturing around them. “Not the afterlife for you?”

“It’s fine.”

“Seems more than fine to me, Dean. Mom’s here, and Bobby. And we can finally hang up our hats and not feel guilty about not saving the world. Sounds damn peaceful to me.”

There is a long pause. 

“How the hell am I supposed to enjoy ‘Rest,’ huh Sammy?” Dean says, making sarcastic finger quotes around the unusual name. He stalks away, shoulders still hunched. Sam follows behind quietly.

Eventually Dean stops, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Cas is GONE, Sam. GONE. If this is the end of the road--the real end of the road for us--then there is no way he’s here, and also no way for me to get out and find that stupid son of a bitch!” 

Dean’s voice breaks on the last word, and Sam comes around to stand in front of him. “Maybe he’ll land here later,” he says, trying to comfort his brother. “Maybe his role isn’t finished, or--”

“He’s an angel, Sam. You heard Jess. This is a place for humans.”

Sam sighs. “I know, I know, but don’t give up hope, Dean.”

He looks around at the beautiful landscape surrounding them. He knows things are shit for his brother yet he can’t help but feel a peace washing over him, and it isn’t just because of Jessica’s presence.

“This place … it’s different,” Sam murmurs. Maybe this place will heal Dean at last.

He looks back at his brother, and his heart sinks. Dean is staring at him, hollow eyed, and then his face just crumples, pain distorting his features.

“I never got to tell him how I felt!” Dean chokes out. “He bared his soul to me, told me he loved me, and all I could do was stare at him like a moron!”

Sam’s heart twists. He reaches out and grips his brother’s shoulders, pulling him firmly into a hug. Dean doesn’t hesitate, just wraps his arms around his brother tightly. A tortured sob escapes him.

“I think he knew, Dean,” Sam whispers. “He had to have known. I knew, for crap’s sake.” 

Dean is still shuddering from the force of his emotions. “I should have told him,” he says desperately. “I should have told him that he changed my life too, and I don’t want to live any kind of existence without him, because I love him, I love him, I love him, dammit!”

Sam hugs his brother hard while Dean weeps in regret and pain.

Sam looks up eventually, and suddenly goes rigid with shock. 

“What is it Sam? You okay?” Dean is immediately the protective older brother again. Sam continues to stare over Dean’s shoulder. 

“What are you--” Dean starts to turn around.

“Hello, Dean.”

The familiar raspy voice stops Dean faster than any spell or trap he’s ever encountered. He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t dare hope. 

Finally he looks at Sam, an awful hope dawning in his eyes. 

Sam gives him a huge grin, and Dean finally gets up the courage to turn around. 

Joy blossoms over his features. He can only stare, unable to speak, a tear sliding down his cheek. 

A warm breeze ruffles the hem of a dear familiar trench coat. 

Dean swallows hard. 

“Cas?” he manages to whisper. 

Every hope, every fear, every bit of love and devotion and longing is in that whisper. 

A heartbeat passes, then joy breaks like the dawn over Castiel’s face. He speaks.

“I heard there was something you wanted to say to me?”

The End


End file.
